


Inferiority Complex

by AuthorReinvented



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alfred - Freeform, Angst, Arthur - Freeform, Comfort, Hurt, Inferiority Complex, M/M, Romance, Sad, alfred&mathew are twins, francis - Freeform, mapletea, mathew - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 10:48:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 19,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27969332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuthorReinvented/pseuds/AuthorReinvented
Summary: "Arthur, I'm not Alfred."Arthur seems to wilt under those words."Of course," Arthur mutters under his breath, a slight slur to his words, "You're Mathew. I know that."
Relationships: Canada/England (Hetalia)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 60





	1. Chapter 1

Arthur does a lot of things wrong. It isn't Mathew's place to judge. His place is to stand behind Arthur and support him.

But not like this.

Mathew gently slides Arthur's hand off his thigh, pushing a hand gently but sternly against Arthur's chest to create a distance as he softly chides.

"Arthur, I'm not Alfred."

Arthur has drunk more than he should have, and its obvious by the delay it takes for Arthur to register Mathew's words. Then, in a way Mathew hates to see, the realization strikes, and Arthur wilts. Mathew already knows what Arthur will say, because the same situation repeats every time Arthur is drunk, like a sad inside joke. 

"Of course," Arthur mutters under his breath, a slight slur to his words, "You're Mathew. I know that."

There's something forlorn in the way Arthur says those words, and Mathew works hard to maintain his small, but polite, smile. Mathew can't help if it hurts to hear the way Arthur says those words, even though Mathew's heard them said that way a thousand times before. Arthur probably doesnt mean to sound so dejected, but his words still sound that way every time, regardless of whether or not Arthur is drunk. 

_"Good job, lad!"_

_Arthur claps Mathew on the back heartily, a proud smile on his face, and Mathew can tell he really means those words. Unfortunately, Mathew knows those words aren't meant for him._

_"Sorry, Arthur," The words are apologetic and gentle. "Im Mathew, not Alfred."_

_Immediately Mathew feels the response as Arthur falters in his steps, and his face twists a little as though he wants to say something. But when Arthur does speak, all he says is "I know that, Mathew."_

_Mathew feels bad for putting Arthur in such a humiliating situation, and he doesnt blame Arthur for playing it off as though he said those words with Mathew in mind, even though Mathew knows that isnt the case. Mathew makes sure to relay Arthur's words to Alfred later when they see him, and Alfred turns wide and surprised eyes towards Arthur, who flushes and denies it. Mathew hates that he's always caught between the two._

_Alfred, the mirror image of Mathew in looks, but opposite in personality, regards Mathew's small smile with a matching one of his own, as though he's commiserating a secret between the two. Arthur looks like he wishes he's never said anything._

Arthur seems to be thinking hard, staring into the distance with creased brows. When he speak, his tone is hesitant, but sounding a lot more sober that his earlier slur had suggested. 

"Mathew.." Arthur pauses, then forges on, ".. why do you always think I'm mistaking you for Alfred?"

Mathew wishes Arthur hadnt voiced this drunken thought. Its delicate ground. Mathew has watched Arthur for years now, always standing just behind him, and has supported him enough over the years to know Arthur's personality. Arthur isn't ready to admit his feelings for Alfred. Even if Mathew brings it up, Arthur wil brush it off. Instead, Mathew shrugs lightly as he answers.

"No reason, i suppose. We just look similar so I guess im used to getting mistaken for him." 

Mathew knows he cant say the real reason. He cant tell Arthur that its because of the way Arthur looks at Alfred with longing, the way Arthur nags at him or tries to claim Alfred's attention for himself everytime they're together. He cant say its because Arthur has always looked at Alfred more than Mathew, and that Arthur has never fought to keep Mathew by his side like he did for Alfred. 

Not just Mathew, but everyone they know, remembers that time. 

_Arthur slams his hand down on the table, fuming, when he learns that Alfred is leaving him. His face is blotched with what Arthur claims as rage, but Mathew recognizes as pain._

_"I wont!" Arthur snarls as he paces his office. "I won't accept this! I wont let him go!"_

_It makes Mathew feel bad for Alfred, who is tired of being tied down, tired of being controlled. Alfred wants a new life, one that's his, not Arthur's, and Mathew repects his brother for that. He's secretly happy they're separating. Anyone can see the relationship between Arthur and Alfred is unhealthy, and Mathew hopes that some distance will fix it._

_Arthur turns to Mathew suddenly, furiously, eyes rimmed with red, and makes a demand that chills Mathew's bones._

_"Mathew, come. We're going to bring Alfred back!"_

_He doesn't ask Mathew. He demands it, and Mathew can't say no. This is how it has always been. Arthur demands something from Mathew, and no matter how painful or hard it is, Mathew delivers. All for the sake of Arthur who can only see Alfred._

Arthur's face is twisted in a way that Mathew can't read, and Mathew wonders if Arthur was remembering the same time he was. Mathew knows Arthur well enough that he can recognize the face Arthur makes when he thinks about Alfred, the same one he's always made. Even after they separated, the only one who got better was Alfred. Arthur never changes, and its that fact that causes Mathew's heart to ache. 

Even so, Mathew is glad that they didn't succeed in bring Alfred back that time. Even if Arthur was hurt because of it, Mathew thinks this way is better. Before both Alfred and Arthur were in pain. This way, at least Alfred is happy. Mathew wants Alfred to be happy almost as much as he wants Arthur's pain to go away. He can still see the look of betrayal on his twin's face when Alfred saw Mathew behind Arthur that day. 

_Alfred's face is a mask of stone and resolution, his eyes are unwavering and clearly show his resolve._

_"I won't ever come back. I'm not your belonging, Arthur. Im my own person."_

_Arthur seems to snap at those words, surging forwards and grabbing Alfred's wrist with all his might. Alfred is stronger than Arthur, and frees himself with a single twist of his wrist, bringing his hand up in retaliation. His blow never reaches Arthur, and Mathew flinches as he catches the blow in his hand, stinging his wrist. It hurts, but this was the best option for Mathew. He can't hit Alfred, not after betraying him like this. He can't stop Arthur either. This is all he can do._

_Alfred's face is melting into a look of pain and betrayal, and his firm voice wavers into something quiet and pleading as he sees his twin side with Arthur._

_"Mattie?"_

_Mathew can't meet Alfred's eyes. He's never felt more like scum in his life, but he doesn't release Alfred's fist. All he can do it murmur a meaningless rephrase under his breath._

_"I'm sorry."_

_And he is, in more ways than one. Mathew truely thinks he's pathetic, the worst kind of person. Mathew won't meet Alfred's eyes, and in trying to avoid them, his gaze hits Arthur's face instead. He wishes he hadn't seen that._

_Arthur's face is crumpled, broken, and Mathew wonders if its because Alfred rejected him, or if he feels bad for what he put Mathew through._

_"Alfred." Arthur breathes in a choked tone, and Mathew realizes quickly its something else._

_Its jealousy towards Mathew. Because Alfred who wont show anything but a stone face to Arthur, has broken and shown his true feelings towards Mathew. Mathew wishes he wasnt caught in this feud between his family. He wishes he had the courage to stay out of it. And yet, just as he couldn't say no to Arthur, he can't let go of Alfred's hand. Alfred's hand is shaking just like his, and Mathew resists the urge to curl their fingers together. He's lost that right. Mathew hates it._

_Then there's another hand, reaching out and prying Alfred loose from the grip neither brother will break, and Francis is staring coldly at Mathew and Arthur. Francis, who's already abandoned Mathew once, makes his side clear this time too._

_"It's over." Francis says coldly. "He's not yours anymore."_

_Mathew knows Francis isn't just speaking to Arthur._

Arthur seems to be watching Mathew's face, and belatedly, Mathew realizes that his smile has faltered and twisted into something else. Quickly Mathew reshapes his smile, but its too late, and Arthur's face crumples. Unfortunately for Mathew, Arthur has also lived with him long enough to know when Mathew is thinking about Alfred, or more specifically, that time. 

"Im sorry." 

They're words Mathew can only hear from a drunk Arthur, ones that sober Arthur would never say. Mathew wonders if Arthur is apologizing for mistaking the twins for eachother, or for making Mathew stand against Alfred all those years ago. Arthur doesn't explain further. Instead, he leans his forhead wearily against Mathew's shoulder and takes a deep steadying breath before he pulls back again. Mathew waits patiently. 

Arthur reaches for Mathew's hand and pulls it to himself, and Mathew meets his eyes bemusedly, wondering what Arthur will do this time. Even so he doesnt expect the next words that come out of Arthur's mouth. 

"Mathew, I love you." 

Its so cute, Mathew thinks, the way that Arthur tries to reassure Mathew. Even Arthur isn't blind to his obvious favoritism towards Alfred, though he won't admit it, and Mathew knows Arthur's words are said out of guilt because of that. Mathew is carefull not to let his polite smile slip as he responds gently.

"Thanks. I love you too, Arthur." 

Arthur's face starts to twist again. Mathew wishes he could give Arthur what he wants, but he's not the one who can fill that hole. The one who Arthur wants is Alfred, not Mathew. Arthur whispers under his breath, but not so quietly Mathew can't catch it.

"Why wont you believe me?" 

Ah. Arthur is speaking to Alfred again, even though he's not here. Mathew's heart goes out to him and he tries to offer the answer as gently as he can. 

"He does believe you, Arthur, its just that your 'love' means something different than his."

Arthur only sags lower. 

"And yours?" Arthur's voice is so soft its barely audible. "What about your love, Mathew?" 

Mathew wishes Arthur hadn't asked that. He wants to get angry at Arthur's insensitivity, to snap at him, but the bow to Arthur's proud shoulder stops him. Still, Mathew's tone isn't as gentle as he wants it to be when he responds.

"I'll always stand behind you, you know that Arthur. No matter what." 

Its not an answer and they both know it. Neither calls it out.


	2. Chapter 2

Alfred seems to have something on his mind. He isnt watching the tv, but instead, staring blankly at it with a creased brow, shooting Mathew a sidelong look ever few minutes. Mathew gets the hint and turns off the movie.

"What is it Al?" 

Alfred has obviously been waiting for this opening, and pounces on the chance. 

"How's Arthur been recently?" 

Alfred is worrying about Arthur again, and Mathew knows its partly because of this that Arthur can't let go. Still, Mathew can't expect Alfred to stop caring about Arthur just because Arthur is a mess. Mathew plasters on his gentle smile.

"He's the same as always."

Mathew's response is carefull. He isnt telling Alfred anything, but at the same time is answering the question. Mathew doesnt know what else he could say. It isnt like he can tell Alfred that Arthur is still pining after him, or that Arthur gets drunk and comes onto Mathew instead, thinking he's Alfred. He can't tell Alfred that Arthur's eyes still watch his back everytime he walks away, or that Arthur still gets sick on the anniversary of that day. 

Alfred's forhead is creased again, and he gives Mathew a strange look. 

"Nothing different happened?" 

The way he says that makes Mathew wonder is something was supposed to happen. He quickly reveiws recent events, but nothing sticks out. He gives Alfred a bemused look as he shakes his head. 

"No?" 

Alfred sighs deeply, and mutters under his breath.

"So he didn't tell you." 

Unfortunately for Alfred, even his quiet voice is quite loud, and Mathew hears this clearly. Mathew is bewildered. Tell him what? Mathew can only think of one thing that both Alfred and Arthur would want to tell him, and despite himself, his heart clenches. Mathew wants to be happy for Arthur, but something selfish inside is in pain, and its all Mathew can do to not let his small smile slip. Alfred is wearing a twisted and pained look Mathew has only seen once before. 

_Mathew hesitates instead of taking the torch Arthur is offering him._

_"Arthur?"_

_There's an anger and pain in Arthur's eyes that terrifies Mathew, almost as much as what Arthur is asking him to do. His gaze wavers from the torch to the gas-soaked building. Arthur almost looks demented._

_"He hurt you first." Arthur's words are rational, but his eyes are dangerous. "Don't you want to get him back?"_

_Mathew doesnt. He just wants this to be over, for Arthur and Alfred to stop walking all over him as they fight. He just wants Arthur's eyes to shine again, to hear his laughter and his gentle tone. Mathew hates the way Arthur speaks right now, just as much as he hates the pain in Arthur's eyes._

_Arthur's eyes betray an uncertainty, a doubt in Mathew that has Mathew reaching for the torch in Arthur's hand. Mathew reminds himself that his job is to stand behind Arthur, to support him. Mathew is still hesitant, though. He isn't sure this is part of his job. He doesn't think he can hurt Alfred anymore. He's angry, of course, at how Alfred chose to walk all over him and treat him like dirt, but Alfred isnt the only doing that, and Mathew isnt the type to return pain with pain._

_But more than that, Mathew is tired. He's tired of the fighting, of supporting Arthur, tired of seeing the pain in both Alfred's and Arthur's eyes. Mathew just wants it to be over. Wearily, he reaches for the torch. Before he can take it, he hears a strangled yell._

_"No!"_

_Mathew doesn't even have to look to know that voice, but he does anyways, and Alfred is there, just a few feet away, face glistening with sweat. Mathew meets Alfred's eyes, and reads the pain in his face, and knows he cant do this. His hand drops to his side, and he knows that Arthur must be looking betrayed behinfld him, but he cant take his eyes away Alfred's pleading gaze. Behind him, he hears something burning, and the air gets warming with a crackling sound. Alfred's face is twisted in a pained way as he first looks at the building behind Mathew, then to Mathew himself, then to Arthur. Mathew feels a tear slip down his face._

"Mattie?" 

Alfred is calling his name, and Mathew realizes he zoned out. Alfred's face is still twisted in that strange way, seemingly waiting for a response. Mathew flushes at being caught spacing out. 

"Sorry?"

Its half an apology, half a request to repeat the statement, and Alfred's face twists more in a way that's very unlike him. His eyes seem to darken as Alfred repeats the question, unusually serious. 

"Do you like Arthur?" 

Mathew freezes. He wants to take the question at face value, to answer lightly, but Alfred is making a serious face that Mathew cant deny. At the same time, Mathew doesn't think he can answer. How can he tell Alfred the truth? He doesn't think its fair to Arthur if Mathew becomes the reason for Alfred to turn him down. Besides, what good will it do to answer this question?

Mathew's job is to stand behind Arthur, to support him. He's given up hoping for anything more, he knows he's nothing more than Alfred's substitute in England's eyes. Still, Alfred is waiting for Mathew's answer, and Mathew can't maintain his forced smile anymore. His own face is twisting too, and he wonders if he looks like Alfred does right now. Alfred seems to already know the answer feom Mathew's expression, Mathew knows Alfred well enough to tell, but Mathew still feels like he owes Alfred an answer. Still what he responds is not an answer, but a question of his own.

"How can I?" 

He curls into himself, drawing his feet up onto the couch so his knees meet his chest, dipping his forehead to meet them. It's pitiful, Mathew knows, giving an answer without giving one, contradicting his own decision not to say. Mathew feels like trash. He knows what will make Arthur happy, he wants Arthur to be happy, so why is he getting in the way? Why cant he just support Arthur like he's promised too?

At the same time, there's a feeling of relief, a weight off his chest with this confession, and Mathew feels dirtier still upon realizing this. He wants to say the words, he wants Alfred to be on his side, and that leaves a feeling of complete disgust in his throat. Mathew thinks he just should have stayed quiet as he always has. Saying it out loud isnt helping solve any of his problems. It only makes them worse. 

"Why can't you?" 

Alfred's voice is a mixture of frustration and something bitter that Mathew can't place, but Mathew is too upset to care right now. Alfred isn't oblivious to Arthur's feelings, even though he likes to act like an idiot, Mathew knows his twin is actually quite perceptive, he just chooses not to read the atmosphere. Mathew is suddenly furious. How can Alfred say that when he knows the reason so well? 

Mathew tries to swallow down his frustration, to put his practiced smile back on his face, but he cant seem to make its stay. He's tired of all this tiptoeing around, he's tired of holding back his feelings, of being considerate of Alfred and Arthur. Now, suddenly, Alfred is trampling over his feelings with his fake cluelessness, and making Mathew say things he doesnt want to say, things he wont let himself say. 

Mathew decides to let himself snap, just a little bit. He mumbles the words into his sleeve. 

"You know why." 

The reponse comes in a low, stern tone, both demanding and undeniable. 

"Mathew."

All Alfred says is the single word, but it communicates his request, and almost subconsciously Mathew responds, raising his head to see Alfred's face. Alfred's expression is stern and frustrated as he studies Mathew's face, and Mathew wonders what expression he's making. Whatever his twin sees quickly turns Alfred's already frustrated expression into exasperation and he shakes his head before speaking. 

"I wasn't going to say this, because I didn't think its my place, but the two of you are so stupid and Im tired of being caught in the middle." 

Being caught in the middle? Mathew's temper flares again. Alfred knows nothing about being caught in the middle. He doesn't have any idea what Mathew's gone through because of Alfred and Arthur. The only thing that stops Mathew from lashing out at Alfred is the knowledge that Mathew's suffering was mostly his own making, that Mathew had chosen to get involved in order to support Arthur. Still Mathew feels like something is grinding inside at those words. Alfred chooses to ignore this, and his next words are shocking. 

"You know that Arthur is in love with you, right?" 

Mathew's feelings expand to the point where he feels he might explode, but he calms himself down as he realises what's going on. Alfred, though perceptive, is naiive. Mathew knows that Alfred doesnt know what he's talking about. Clearly Alfred has misread the situation, came to the mistaken idea that Arthur is in love with Mathew, not him. Or maybe Alfred chooses to believe that so he doesn't have to face unwelcome feelings. 

Mathew's always been quiet, not the type to explode in anger like Alfred or Arthur. His is a quiet anger, more malicious than loud, and Mathew unleashes it now. Its not fair for Alfred to force Mathew to admit his feeling while ignoring his own. Its not fair for Alfred to play the victim card when Mathew suffered just as much. Its not fair. But neither is Mathew. 

He can't claim there's good intentions in his response. All Mathew wants is to throw Alfred into turmoil too. 

"Arthur can't be in love with me." 

Alfred hasn't figured out what is going on yet, but Mathew can tell by his expression that he can sense something else in Mathew's sulky tone. Alfred's tone is cautious as he responds. 

"Why not?" 

Mathew tucks his face back into his knees and sheilds it with his arms as he answers. He doesn't want Alfred to see his expression right now. He doesn't want Alfred to know how pathetic and greedy and nasty Mathew is. Still, Mathew can't keep the bitterness out of his tone when he speaks. 

"Because I'm not you."


	3. Chapter 3

The silence is stifling in the room, but both Mathew and Alfred refuse to break it. Mathew's eye is swelling from Alfred's punch, and Alfred has a split lip. Neither of them will apologize. Neither of them will make eye contact. Mathew doesn't think he was in the wrong. He doesn't think he deserved to get hit by Alfred for what he said. Alfred has no right to be angry, even if Mathew forced him to face what he was hiding from. After all, Alfred forced Mathew first.

"Is either of you going to explain this to me?" 

Arthur's clear voice cuts through the tension sharply. Mathew looks at Arthur out of the corner of his eyes, and Arthur looks too shocked to be disappointed, despite the hands planted on his hips. Alfred huffs but doesn't respond, and Mathew knows without looking that Alfred too is studiously ignoring his twin, just like Mathew is. Arthur makes a disbelieving noise. 

"Mathew?"

He turns to Mathew for an answer, and Mathew carefully avoids looking at Arthur's face. Mathew doesn't think he can lie to Arthur's face, but this is a secret he'll take to his grave. This, at least, Mathew knows him and Alfred agree on. Arthur makes a bewildered sputtering noise, as though he's searching for the right words to protest. Arthur sighs, then gives up.

"You should at least put some ice on that." 

Immediately, Mathew forgets his anger and begins to feel very small again. He can tell, even without looking, that Arthur is studying Alfred's face with concern. Mathew looks anyways. Arthur and Alfred have locked eyes, as though having a silent discussion. The terrible thing inside Mathew twists a little, but Mathew won't show it again. Instead, he slips up silently and leaves the room quietly before Arthur notices.

Mathew's job is to support Arthur, and to stand behind him. The person who can stand beside Arthur isn't Mathew.

Mathew roots through Alfred's freezer for ice, but only come out with a pack of frozen French fries. He isn't that surprised. Alfred isn't the type to get injured. Gingerly, Mathew applies the bag to his swollen eye, and leans back against the counter with a sigh, tipping his head up to stare at the ceiling with his remaining eye. He can't help but remember the last time he and Alfred exchanged blows. It isn't a good memory.

" _You're just jealous because I'm Arthur's favorite!"_

_Alfred sticks out his tongue childishly at Mathew, and Mathew's mind goes blank. It's nothing a stupid argument over something foolish, and even though he's arguing, Mathew wasn't too upset, but as soon as he hears Alfred's words something changes. He feels hot and uncomfortable, and something twists painfully inside. Mathew doesn't even remember punching Alfred, but the next thing he knows he's sitting on top of Alfred, repeatedly striking for his face._

_Alfred isn't a pushover, and although Mathew can clearly see he is hurt by Mathew's sudden aggression, it doesn't stop Alfred from dealing back some blows of his own. Mathew feels them, but the pain is not computing. His mind is hazy with anger and all he can think about are Alfred's words._

_Someone catches his elbow and pulls it back, and there's an accusing shout, but Mathew doesn't even register it. Even when he feels the arms wrap around his waist and pull him away all he's focusing on is getting one last hit in. Then Arthur is in front of him, looking both horrified and angry, and Mathew can hear his words through his ringing ears._

_"Alfred! What the hell were you doing to Mathew?"_

_Then everything drops into place like a stone in his stomach, and suddenly Mathew can feel the throbbing pains from the forming bruises and his sore fists, and a feeling of bile rising in his throat. Arthur's words seem like a cruel joke, like it's proving Alfred right. Even when Mathew's causing trouble, kicking and shouting and screaming, it feels like Arthur's first thought is always Alfred. It's a twisted and sick thing, but Mathew is even jealous of Alfred's scolding. Alfred bursts into betrayed tears._

_Arthur recoils as both twins speak at the same time, both in the same righteously angry tone._

_"He's not Alfred! I am!"_

_"I'm Mathew, not Alfred!"_

Mathew is pulled out his reverie by the feeling of a presence at his side, and he jumps, dropping the slightly defrosting fries. He barely has time to register the presence is different, not Alfred or Arthur, before he sees who it is. Francis leans down and scoops up the defrosting fries quietly, his long hair falling to shield his face.

"Desolé, I did not mean to surprise you."

Mathew is surprised to see Francis, although the more he thinks about it, the more it makes sense that he's here. Both Arthur and Alfred are friends with Francis. It's only Mathew that isn't close with Francis, a thought that doesn't sting as much as it should, even when Mathew remembers how close they were when he was younger.

_"Papa!"_

_Mathew doesn't mean anything special by it, it's just what he knows other little boys use to call the man who takes care of them. He doesn't think much of it until he sees Francis's face twist into an expression Mathew can't understand. It's not quite a sad look, and Mathew doesn't think Francis looks mad, but he still feels like he's made a mistake._

_"Well, now, I don't know about that."_

_Francis's tone is light, and Mathew is flooded with relief, he thinks that he didn't mess up after all. Francis curls his arm around Mathew and pulls him closer into a hug._

_"How about 'Big Brother instead?" He suggests, still in his cheery voice. "Doesn't that sound better?"_

_Mathew likes that too. He has a big brother, although he doesn't see him anymore, and he knows what a big brother is. Mathew nods his head happily into Francis's neck, and hugs him tighter._

_"I love big brother the most!" He announces earnestly, and Francis stiffens as Mathew obliviously continues. " You can be my big brother forever!"_

_This time, Mathew feels the tension, though he's too young to understand what it is. Francis laughs awkwardly and priés Mathew's arms from around his shoulders._

_"Is that so? Forever is a long time you know?" His tone seems weak as he changes the subject. "Well, shall we make lunch?"_

_Even as Mathew cheers at the idea, there's something that bugs him. Francis hadn't agreed to forever. Mathew doesn't like the cold feeling that brings._

Mathew hides a frown at the memories. Maybe he and Francis never were close, it was only him who thought so. Mathew smiles politely at Francis and accepts the frozen fries back, applying them back on top of his throbbing eye. 

"Long time, no see." 

He responds in a way they doesn't quite fit the situation, a lie that's almost, but not quite, truth. Mathew has seen Francis more than he'd like to admit, the Frenchman seems to draw attention whenever he's in the area, whether it be bickering with Arthur, teasing Alfred, or offering unsolicited love advice, he's not the type of person one can ignore. Of course, Mathew's eyes follow him because of the love advice.

It's no secret among the people who know Francis that the man is both a narcissist and a self-proclaimed "love expert". It's to everyone's infuriation that both seem to be true. Mathew's never seen any of Francis's ideas fall through. He knows even Arthur will listen to Francis's relationship advice, though grudgingly, and has seen the results between Arthur and Alfred almost immediately.

The more Mathew thinks about it, the more sense it makes for Francis to be at Alfred's house with Arthur. He's probably giving the pair advice. But then... Why is Mathew there? Mathew turns so he can watch Francis through the eye not covered with frozen fries, and flinches when he sees Francis's eyes on him. Francis looks unusually serious, and it makes Mathew nervous as he recalls his conversation with Alfred only moments before. He doesn't think he can do that a second time. 

"Oui, it has been."

Francis responds, and his eyes look like they can see right through Mathew. Mathew braces for the worst, but when Francis speaks, he doesn't mention Arthur. 

"Mathieu, how do you feel towards Alfred?"


	4. Chapter 4

"Haaaaah."

Francis lets out a long drawn out sigh and collapses on Alfred's chair at the kitchen table, dropping his head into his hands. He's the very picture of exasperation, which Mathew finds irritating at the least. Mathew doesn't think he's said anything to warrant this reaction. While it's frustrating, everything he's said about Alfred is true. Francis runs a hand through his hair and gives Mathew a tired look.

"Mathieu, a person like that wouldn't even be human."

Mathew carefully maintains his small smile, but inside, he's frowning. Its true that Alfred is stupidly handsome, funny, athletic and charismatic, and overflowing with a number of other good points, to the point where even Mathew thinks it's inhuman, but hearing someone else confirm it is still frustrating. It feels like Francis is telling Mathew he'll never be on Alfred's level. Francis is studying Mathew's practiced smile, and once again Mathew feels like Francis is seeing right through him.

"Et tu?" Francis asks gently. "What about you?".

Mathew almost snorts at that question, but a ages to hold it back at the last minute. 

"No, I'm not like Alfred. I'm normal." 

The thought of him being anywhere near Alfred's level is amusing to say the least. Mathew isn't one to downplay his own merits, he knows he has a few close friends, he's been told that he's nice and friendly, and easy to get along with, but Mathew's also a realist. He doesn't have nearly as many friends and acquaintances as Alfred, he's not as charismatic or skilled. Francis is staring at Mathew with a shocked expression.

"Mon dieu, You two really are twins."

Mathew isn't sure what Francis is trying to imply with this statement, and instead focuses on returning the mostly thawed fries to the freezer. His eye is throbbing more painfully than when it was first hit, and Mathew can already tell he won't be able to properly open it for days. He hopes Alfred's lips takes at least the same amount of time to heal. Francis takes advantage of Mathew's lack of response to add another observation. 

"Both of you 'ave no sense of self. It's a shame Art'ur will not allow 'imself to be more honest with you." 

Francis shakes his head regretfully, and Mathew's heart twists at the thought of Arthur, still doting on Alfred in the other room. Mathew knows Arthur probably hasn't noticed he's even gone. Francis stands up with another sigh and dusts out the wrinkles on his pants. He takes a few steps closer to Mathew, and Mathew stiffens instinctively. 

"A word of advice?" 

Francis finally offers what Mathew is too afraid to ask for, and despite himself, Mathew's heart speeds up. Francis reaches past Mathew and opens the freezer, digging around as casually as if it was his own freezer. When he speaks, his tone is lighter than the words. 

"Tell Alfred what you've told me." 

Mathew cant help feeling disappointed. It's foolish, he knows, to expect Francis to have an answer to a question Mathew won't even let himself ask. It's natural that Francis can't give him advice for his relationship with Arthur. Mathew hasn't told anyone his feelings, expect Alfred just recently. How could Francis know? 

Francis emerges from Alfred's freezer with a bag of Frozen peas that Mathew didn't even know Alfred owns, and Mathew notices the sly, sidelong look Francis is giving him too late. By the time he slips his small smile back onto his face, Francis has already seen his true feelings. Francis smirks. 

"Your relationship with Art'ur will only get better after you mend your relationship with Alfred." 

Mathew flushes as he registers the words, his mask completely crumbling away. Of course Francis knew all. He always was able to read body language and emotions better than anyone else Mathew knew. Mathew doesn't have to worry about Francis seeing his face, because the Frenchman is already moving, striding towards to the kitchen doorway.

Mathew's thoughts are racing through his head. How does his relationship with his brother have anything to do with his relationship with Arthur? Was it because Mathew always tries to give way to Alfred? But that's not because of how Mathew feels towards Alfred, but because of his feeling for Arthur. Because Alfred makes Arthur happy. And what does Francis mean by saying Mathew has to "mend" their relationship? Of course, the brothers have their differences, and have squabbles like any siblings, but even so Mathew doesn't think their relationship is broken. 

Mathew doesn't get the chance to figure it out. Francis stops just outside the kitchen doorway, and there's something sly in his voice as he speaks over the rustligg of the frozen bag of peas. 

" 'ere. This is for your lip."

It takes Mathew a moment to understand, but when he does, he whips around. Alfred is standing there, quietly accepting the frozen peas from Francis and applying them to his lip, but he's not looking at Francis. Mathew knows this because he isn't looking at Francis either. His eyes are locked with Alfred's, and Mathew sees something in Alfred's eyes that reminds him shockingly of himself. It's an expression Mathew cant explain, but one he can define the feeling behind well. It's a look Mathew is sure shows in his eyes when he looks at Alfred from across the room sometimes. 

Francis isn't even trying to hide his smirk as he claps Alfred on the shoulder and stage whispers a "Bonne chance" to Alfred before sauntering off. Suddenly Mathew finds himself facing Alfred alone, with the knowledge that Alfred's heard everything Mathew's said about him. Suddenly Mathew feels very small. 

Alfred's eyes are shinning in a way that makes him look close to tears, and his voice also sounds thick when he speaks.

"Mattie, that.. do you really think that?"

Mathew doesn't understand why Alfred looks so close to tears. Mathew hasn't insulted him, not really, maybe one or two complaints among hundreds of complements. He should be happy, so why?

"Yes." 

Mathew wants to know what Alfred's thinking, why he looks like this. Mathew wonders if knowing will make the sharp pain in his chest go way. Altered shakes his head, but doesn't cry. 

"That's not me, Mattie. It's you." 

What's him? Mathew doesn't understand. 

"Al?" 

"The one who's strong, and never gives up, the one who can make friends with anyone, the one people can't help but Iike, the one everyone wants to be... All those things you said..."

Ah, Alfred is talking about what Mathew had said to Francis. The barrage of good traits so overwhelming that Francis had claimed to be "Inhuman". Mathew doesn't understand why Alfred isn't happy with his words. Mathew hasn't lied, and he's said these words so any times before to Alfred. Why is this time different?Why is Alfred's eyes shinning with unshed tears? 

Alfred seems to know that Mathew doesn't understand, and tosses the frozen peas on the table, ignoring the split lip. He takes a step forward, and almost instinctively, Mathew takes a step back. Alfred catches his arm to stop him, holding Mathew with a strength that Mathew envies. He tries to read Alfred's eyes, but the emotions he sees there doesn't make sense. Jealously? Why? Alfred tells him clearly.

"That person, the one you described, that isn't me, Mathew."

Alfred's eyes are wide and earnest. Mathew suddenly feels scared.

"It's you."


	5. Chapter 5

Mathew drops into the chair Francis had vacated in the aftermath of Alfred's story, feeling as though he'll collapse if he stays standing. Alfred mimics him, sinking to the floor. It doesn't make sense, but Mathew can tell Alfred's being honest. He feels lost and confused. When Mathew speaks, Alfred also speaks at the same time, and they speak the same words in unison.

"I'm not the great person you say I am."

There's a beat between the two, Alfred meets Mathew's eyes and Mathew meets his. For the first time Mathew realizes how tired Alfred looks. There's a weariness of someone always pretending in Alfred's eyes, and Mathew is only too familiar with it. Mathew doesn't know what Alfred sees in his eyes, but he sees a look of understanding cross his twin's face too.

Mathew knows what Alfred wants to say. It's the same thing he wants to say. He knows that Alfred knows this too. Nevertheless, Mathew feels compelled to say the thought outloud. The words are once again spoken in unison with Alfred.

"I'm just me." 

There's a matching sadness in their tones, and finally, Mathew understands why Francis said their relationship was broken. Then suddenly Mathew wants to laugh. Arthur always said they were similar.

Alfred's eyes snap up to meet Mathew's and Mathew realises he actually had laughed. Alfred's swollen lip makes it look like he's pouting. Actually, knowing Alfred, he very well might be. Mathew doesn't try to comfort Alfred or argue with him, for the same reason he knows Alfred won't argue with him.

Because Mathew knows it's ridiculous. He's not the great, kind, gentle and charismatic person Alfred tried to say he is. But Alfred says that he's not that person either. Mathew wonders if the Alfred he knows ever existed at all, or if he's just the version of Alfred Mathew chooses to see because he doesn't want to see the similarities between. Because Mathew can't accept that Arthur would choose Alfred over Mathew unless Alfred is somehow much better than him. Unless Mathew isn't good enough. 

Alfred picks at his sock as though it's the most interesting thing in the world as he speaks. 

"I'm not good at reading the room."

It's a funny confession, if only for the reason that this is painfully obvious to everyone around him. If this was any other time, Mathew would have laughed. Mathew's lips don't even twitch as Alfred continues. 

"I always seem to upset people and I'm quick to pick fights. I have a lot of people I talk to, but very few I'm close with. I get insecure and think people won't like me so I put up walls and pretend I don't care and laugh it off. I pretend I'm confident even when I'm really scared."

Alfred lays out his flaws and insecurties in a cautious manner, his tone awkward and slightly mumbled, but the words are clear enough. He doesn't look at Mathew, but the message he is trying to communicate is clear.

Im not perfect. 

It bugs Mathew. It bugs him because he's spent so much time looking up to Alfred, being jealous of Alfred, so much time using Alfred as an excuse for Mathew's own insecurties. It bugs him the most because Alfred, who is sitting in a lumpy mess on the floor and telling Mathew he's not perfect, has the nerve to try to tell Mathew that he is perfect. Mathew responds to Alfred's words with more bitterness than he'd normally shown. 

"I'm not very amazing." It's true. Like everybody, Mathew has a couple of things he considers special about himself, but its not exclusive to him. Other people too have the same virtues, and at the end of the day, Mathew thinks he's just average.

"I don't really draw attention, and it's hard for me to talk to other people. I only have a few friends."

Mathew doesn't want to tell Alfred why he's jealous of Alfred, why he isn't good enough. His tone grows more sour as he speaks.

"I get nervous when I try to speak to people and my voice gets quieter all on its own. Then when they don't hear me I start second-guessing myself and I get so afraid that I'll say something wrong or that they don't want to talk to me so I give up."

Mathew's voice is full of frustration, but it doesn't measure up to how frustrated he's feeling. He's trying to send a message to Alfred, and also to himself, that he's not the person Alfred thinks he is. 

He doesn't want to be.

Mathew knows only too well how annoying that overly perfect human is, the one who seems unreachable no matter how hard you try. It's a feeling that's made Mathew want to give up so many times in the past. No, Mathew had given up. 

_Mathew feels like the world has stopped when he realizes how he feels about Arthur. He's barely 15 at the time, but the moment the thought strikes him, he knows that it's true. For a moment, he feels elated, just for recognizing the feeling, for the clarity that realization has given him._

_Then he hears laughter outside, and his eyes seek the noise outside the window, and fall on Arthur and Alfred. Alfred is trying to give Arthur a piggyback while Arthur protests, though his cheeks look flushed with laughter, even from a distance. But it's not Arthur's face Mathew focuses on, but Alfred's. Alfred looks blissful even in his foolish fun, and that's when Mathew's world flips upside down._

_Because Mathew knows he and Alfred are similar. Too similar. Mathew realises that Alfred must feel the same way too, and with that knowledge comes a constricting feeling in his throat. Mathew shares almost everything, from food, to clothes, to toys with Alfred. Mathew won't share Arthur's love too._

_In this moment, Alfred stops being Mathew's Twin, Stops being Mathew's brother or his other half. Mathew knows he needs to become better than Alfred, so that Arthur will only look at him. So Mathew won't have to share._

_In this moment, Alfred becomes Mathew's rival._

Alfred looks small. He looks smaller than when they were children, even though he's an adult now, and it takes Mathew a moment to recognize why. It his shoulders. Alfred always had proud straight shoulders that seems as if they could lift even the sky with no problem, but today, Alfred's shoulders fold in. It makes Alfred look small and alone. Alfred really does look like just half of a whole person, like Arthur used to call them.

_"Two halves of one person," Arthur would laugh, a hand on each head. "That's what you two are like. Really, you are just two peas in a pod."_

Alfred's face screws up like he is being forced to eat raw kale, and he mutters in a low and petulant tone. 

"I've never been in love with Arthur." 

The world stops and Mathew feels like the kitchen has become a vacuum, sucking all the air out. Mathew's head is spinning from the shock, but it's not because of Alfred's confession. Mathew thinks he's known the truth for quite a while. No Matter how hard Arthur tried to get Alfred to stay with him, or to come back to him, Alfred had always refused. When Arthur did things that would have made Mathew swoon, Alfred had only looked slightly annoyed.

It's obvious that Alfred doesn't return Arthur's feelings, no matter how hard Mathew tries to deny it. That's why Mathew is still stuck between Arthur and Alfred all these years later. No, the reason Mathew is shocked isn't because of that. It's because Mathew has come to the shocking conclusion that it's his fault that Alfred is lonely.

_"Hey, Mattie, Arthur and I were going to go fishing!" Alfred anounces playfully, but there's a touch of shyness in his tone as he offers "Do you wanna come with us?"_

_Mathew does, he likes the peaceful feeling of fishing, just the three of them together. But Mathew's chest tightens at the thought of the shared moment. Mathew doesn't want to share. He thinks it'd be better to just miss out completely than have to watch Alfred stare adoringly at Arthur and having to share Arthur's attention._

_It's selfish, Mathew knows, but he can't help it. He wants Arthur to love him the most. Mathew doesn't like the selfishness he feels when he sees Alfred and Arthur together. He worries he'll say something nasty that he doesn't mean to Alfred. That's why he's taken care to avoid his twin ever since Mathew realized their crush._

_Besides, Alfred wants to go alone with Arthur anyways. Mathew knows this because that's how he would feel in Alfred's place, and they both like the same person. He shakes his head, and answers just a little to sharply._

_"No thanks."_

_Alfred seems to wilt._

_"Oh."_

_Mathew thinks he was too sharp, and quickly adds. "I'm reading right now. You should just go together."_

_Alfred seems unenthusiastic suddenly._

_"it's okay. We can go some other time together. What are you reading?"_

_Mathew fold his book and stands up before he can snap at Alfred for being such an idiot. He wants to tell Alfred not to pass up his chance, he wants to beat the nasty thing inside him for once. The words come out too cold._

_"Just go alone with Arthur."_

_Mathew stalks by, trying not to look at Alfred and let him see his expression, but still catches a glimpse of Alfred's face. Alfred looks like he's been slapped, eyes round and somewhat wet, and mouth partially open as though midway through a silent protest. Mathew doesn't let himself think about why._

Mathew's stomach churns as he he finally understands Alfred. He knows Alfred is telling the truth, and that's why it hurts. Because if Alfred never loved Arthur in that way from the start, if Alfred isn't his rival, then it means that Mathew pushed Alfred away for no reason. 

Mathew adds one more item to his list of flaws.


	6. Chapter 6

"I'm sorry." 

It's the only thing Mathew can say. It's not enough. "Sorry" doesn't fix anything. Alfred's shoulders are still bowed, his face still looks moments from tears. Even though Mathew understands the truth, it doesn't undo what Matthew's done to Alfred, or give them back all those years they should have spent together. "Sorry" won't fix their relationship. Mathew isn't sure what will.

It's Alfred who makes the suggestion, rather timidly, flicking his eyes up to check Matthew's expression from underneath his lashes, then flicking back to his socks again, still picking nervously.

"Then, can I have my brother back?" 

It's a heartbreaking question, and Mathew feels crushed under its weight. He shouldn't have made it so Alfred has to ask that. He shouldn't have to think about the answer. But there's a part of Mathew that still wants to ask "Me?" incredulously. Even though he's been told that Alfred's not the person he wants to pretend Alfred is, even though he knows it's right, it's hard for Mathew to accept it. Years of belief won't vanish with just a simple phrase, and Mathew still feels like he's not good enough, that he doesn't deserve it. 

He wonders if Alfred feels the same. He remembers Alfred's face when Mathew refused to go with him and Arthur, Alfred's face when he saw Mathew had sided with Arthur and tried to bring him back, Alfred's face when he realized Mathew had betrayed him. Mathew can think of a hundred times Alfred's made the same face, and there's a sinking feeling in his chest as he realizes why. 

_"Hey Mattie!"_

_Alfred waves Mathew down before his twin can escape the room unnoticed, despite Matthew's best efforts. Mathew represses the urge to pretend he hadn't heard and slip away, and instead reluctantly turns towards Alfred. Alfred's beam is so large he's practically radiating happiness, but Mathew finds the blinding beam too much._

_"Mattie!" Alfred stars excitedly, "I was thinking we should go get drinks and hang out!"_

_Mathew really doesn't want to. He's had a hard day, and he doesn't think he can handle having to sit next to someone as perfect as Alfred and listen to his brother complain about his perfect life and many friends over a drink. Just the thought is exhausting._

_"Sorry," Mathew only partly lies, already deciding to make plans to back up his cover, "But I already made plans to go with Arthur tonight."_

_There's no reason Alfred couldn't come too, but Mathew doesn't offer that option, and surprisingly, Alfred doesn't try to ask._

_"What about tomorrow?"_

_He asks instead, and Mathew quickly makes plans for that day too. Anyone else is better than Alfred. Anyone other than the Golden child._

_"Sorry," Mathew gives Alfred a fake sympathetic smile, "I'm hanging out with a friend tomorrow. I'm busy the day after too. Maybe next week?"_

_Alfred's face falls for a moment, like he's genuinely disappointed, but Mathew knows he'll get over it quickly. Alfred has a ton of friends he can hang out with, Matthew's only a passing thought while his brother is bored. Matthew's confident that it's better this way, Alfred will be more happy with a friend than his boring twin anyways._

_Mathew pretends he doesn't hear when Alfred mutter dejectedly under his breath, "You said that last week though."_

Mathew feels like his heart has settled into his stomach as he remembers. He's realizing something he really doesn't like the reality of. Matthew's always been jealous of Alfred, always thought he was second to Alfred in Arthur's eyes. Now Mathew is beginning to wonder if Alfred feels second to Arthur in Matthew's eyes. Worse, Mathew has a sinking feeling that he really has been putting Arthur first.

Mathew can't even swallow past the lump that's growing in his throat, but he's been quiet all too long, he's been quiet when he should have answered instantly, and Mathew sees how hopeless Alfred looks for the first time. No, it's not the first time at all. How many times has Mathew seen Alfred make the same face in his direction? How many times has Alfred already given up before he'd even asked, knowing that Mathew would reject him?

Matthew's afraid of what the answer is. He's certain its more than he thinks. He opens his mouth to answer Alfred, but the only thing that comes out is a choked sob. It's not fair to Alfred, it's not right for Mathew to be the one crying, he doesn't deserve it, but the sobs won't stop once they start, and the tears start rolling down his cheeks, hot and itchy, and Mathew tries desperately to stem the flow of the tears. 

He can't even see Alfred's face through his blurry eyes, but he thinks he knows what expression Alfred's making. Alfred moves, and this time it's Mathew who grabs his twin's arm to stop him from leaving. Alfred waits, and it takes Mathew a few minutes to choke down the tears and compose himself enough to speak. He doesn't try to sugarcoat his words, or bend them to make Alfred feel better. Mathew, for the first time in a long time, is seeing Alfred clearly, and he wants Alfred to know the truth. 

"You were always too good for me."

Mathew begins, and Alfred's arm jerks in his grasp, but he only tightens his grip and doesn't let go. 

"I used to look up to you, I thought you were amazing. But then I got jealous, and the more I looked up to you the more I realized I wasn't like you at all. The more I realized that the more I hated being near you. I felt like everyone was always comparing us, and I never felt good enough. So I started to avoid you."

Alfred is stiff as a board, and Mathew knows he doesn't want to hear Matthew's cheap excuses. Mathew says them anyways.

"I was happy when you left. I was happy for you, because I wanted you to be free, I wanted you to be happy, and I knew you weren't happy by Arthur's side."

Mathew thinks he hears a noise around the corner and wonders if Francis didn't ever leave, if he's listening in. Perhaps he's judging Mathew for how terrible he is as a person. Perhaps he knew Mathew was like this from the beginning, and that's why he didn't want to stay with Mathew. But Alfred's still not moving, not interupting, even though Matthew's sure he doesn't want to hear this, Alfred's still listening, so Mathew talks. 

"But I was also happy for me. I was selfish, I thought I'd feel better if I wasn't always around you, that maybe It wasn't that I was lacking, but you're just too good. And I thought... I thought I could finally have Arthur all to myself. I thought for once he'd only look at me. "

Matthew's grip tightens subconsciously on Alfred's arm, and Alfred hisses in pain, and Mathew quickly releases his brother, feeling more ashamed by the second. How much longer is he going to hurt Alfred? He finishes his story quickly. 

"Then Arthur went after you, and I realized I couldn't make Arthur happy. I realized I could never be as good as you. So I stupidly decided to resent you. I blamed you, even though I knew you didn't want this either. I blamed myself, and Francis-" 

There's another sound from the doorway, and Matthew's certain Francis is listening in, but he's too far gone to care. 

" - I blamed anyone I could, everyone. Just not Arthur. Because... "

Mathew can't finish his sentence. He's not even sure he wants to anymore. Alfred's no longer in his grip, his brother can leave if he wants, Alfred doesn't have to listen to Mathew's nonsense anymore. Mathew knows he wouldn't if he was in Alfred's place, and he waits for Alfred to stalk off. Instead, Alfred finishes Mathew's sentence. 

"Because if it's just that Arthur doesn't see anything in you, then there's nothing you can do." 

Alfred's voice is full of tears too, and once again, Mathew is struck with the fact that even now, he doesn't understand Alfred at all. 


	7. Chapter 7

"Mathieu! ARRÊT!" 

Francis grabs Mathew by the wrist, forcing him to a stop. Mathew whirls to face him angrily , and for a moment, he's fueled with the desire to hit Francis, but he restrains himself, but he can still feel the maliciousness boiling in his chest as Francis speaks.

"You cannot continue to run away, Mathieu! You need to talk to them! _Both_ of them!" 

Francis is being painfully honest, but Mathew hates it. He's furious for a number of reasons, but the one foremost in his mind is the way Francis manipulated him into saying the terrible things he felt, the emotions and nasty thoughts he wanted to hide until he dies. He's angry at Francis' interference, and he's scared of facing both Arthur and Alfred. The fear twists in his chest into something boiling and angry. There's one thought racing through his mind, and he can't stop himself from hissing it at Francis. 

"You have no right to do that to me!"

Mathew doesn't even try to control his tone as he snaps at Francis. There's no point to it anymore anyways. Mathew knows it's pointless to try to hide anything now. Because of Francis, there's no one left he can hide it from. That's why he let's himself show his anger. 

"You had no right to let Arthur eavesdrop!" 

Everything is crashing down around him. Everything Mathew worked so hard to maintain, everything he sacrificed is pointless now, all because of Francis. The wall he's built to hide his emotions is broken, and all he can think is that Arthur _knows._ Arthur knows Matthew's dirty side, how Mathew treats even his own twin, the jealousy and the bitterness and the nastiness Mathew tries so hard to supress around Arthur is pointless now. 

Francis is still holding Matthew's wrist, firmly, and Mathew can't read any regret in his face. Instead, Francis looks angry, and Mathew flares up. Francis has no right to be angry, not when he manipulated Mathew in that way. Not when he forced Mathew to show his true self to Alfred, to face a reality he's been trying so desperately to avoid. Not when Francis hid with Arthur just around the corner and listened to the whole thing.

Mathew wants to snort derisively at the him from before, who was so desperate for Francis's love advice. What nonsense. Francis, known as the best person at relationships, is nothing but a fraud. No one who truely empathized with someone else would have done something like that. A love expert wouldn't have broken Mathew like that. Mathew meets Francis's gaze coldly, boiling with a righteous fury that only grows when Francis half-yells st him, like he's scolding a disobedient child. 

"You need to stop 'iding!" 

Francis demands, his exasperated tone only adding to Matthew's boiling wrath. 

"You can't fix your relationship with either of them if you won't face the truth!" 

Mathew wonders if Alfred would be able to accept this advice from Francis, if his twin would be able to easily forgive and forget. But no, Alfred apparently isn't the "good" person Mathew always pictures him as, so maybe Alfred would fly off the handle in this situation, and attack Francis. Matthew's face twists into a look he's sure is wicked and cruel. Mathew wants to attack Francis, to give Francis a black eye and swollen lip like the blows the two brothers dealt each other, to the point where he can't show his stupidly handsome face in public, where he can't use his lying lips to deceive anyone else. To the point where he can't hurt anyone else. 

But Matthew's anger is the quiet type, coldly malicious rather than violently hot, and Mathew unleashes his anger in words colder than dry ice.

"What do you know, Francis?"

Francis looks even more frustrated, and opens his mouth like he'd like to retort, but Mathew won't give him the chance. There's a festering anger that's been growing in Matthew's heart since long before he'd had any relationship with Alfred or Arthur. Its a resentment spilling over from another relationship the "love expert" never bothered to fix, one Mathew can't forgive. 

"What right do you have to tell me how to talk to my family?" 

Mathew chooses his words carefully with the intent to hurt, and he can tell its working. Francis's eyes wident, and he takes a half-step back as he realizes what Mathew is about to say. Mathew won't stop. 

" You chose your family long ago."

Francis, who gave Mathew up all those years ago, flinches as Mathew let's his next words fall. 

"I'm not part of it."

_It's the first time Matthew's seen someone with such large eyebrows, or heard someone who spoke in such a clipped British accent. It's foreign to him, so used to the delicate features and musical French accent of Francis. He's a little intimidated to be honest, and he shrinks behind Francis' leg. The British man crouches down to Matthew's level, his pleasant smile never fading._

_"Hello Mathew, my name is Arthur. I'm going to be your new older brother."_

_Mathew swivels his head up to read Francis expression to see if he's understood correctly. He's still learning English and Mathew isn't sure he's understood the words right. Francis offers him a smile, and nods to Mathew encouragingly, so Mathew accepts the information and steps forward to tentatively introduce himself in a thick French accent._

_" Allo. J'mappelle Mathieu. Enchanté."_

_The Englishman's face lights up in a beam that makes even timid Mathew smile back shyly, and Mathew looks back to Francis one more time for confirmation that he's doing it alright. He catches the last flashes of Francis' expression changing back to a smile, and Mathew knows, somewhere in the back of his mind that something isn't right._

_But Arthur is so friendly, and funny, and even though he can't seem to cook at all, his flustered expression as Francis kicks him out of the kitchen makes Mathew break out into peals of laughter, which causes the stranger to pout in return. When Mathew works up the courage to force out the English words "Big Bruzer" in a childish lisps, both Arthur and Francis look like they forgot how to breathe. Mathew isn't worried about having a new older brother. He knows lots of kids that have more than one sibling, so he doesn't think anything will change._

_By the time he realizes it has, and to what extent, it's already too late._

Francis steps back as though he's been slapped, and somehow Mathew can't feel triumphant at his win. Instead, he feels like he's slapped himself, and it doesn't take him long to figure out why. Not just Alfred, or Arthur, but now Francis. How many more people will he hurt? How many more times will he hurt himself, too? Mathew feels like he's choking on something, and he doesn't know what to do to get rid of the feeling.

The relief comes in the unexpected form of an attack, and Francis retreats another step back, putting a hand to his cheek, just beginning to redden from Arthur's slap.

"Art'ur?" 

Francis looks shocked, and Mathew is too. It doesn't make sense for Arthur to be here, not when Mathew saw him comforting Alfred only a few minutes before, but he can't deny the truth as Arthur stands next to him, shaking his hand as though it stings. 

"You wanker! You bloody idiot! You absolute arse!" 

Arthur is angry, and Mathew stares uncomprehendingly at Arthur's flushed face and red eyes, before trailing his gaze down to Arthur's shaking fists. Arthur looks like he's been crying, but Mathew doesn't want to believe it's possible. He hasn't seen Arthur cry, not since Alfred left him. Arthur only cries for Alfred. Never for Mathew. But there are tearstains on Arthur's cheeks as he raises his hand as though to hit Francis again, and Francis cringes away.

"You complete buffoon, why would you do that! That... No one... That didn't help anyone you idiot!"

Mathew watches Arthur's eyes that are shining with unshed tears in a daze as Arthur yells at Francis, a strange feeling uncurling in his chest. Arthur hadn't wanted to listen either. So why had he? Arthur isn't the nosy type, in fact, his quickness to back off and reluctance to pry was something Mathew considers to be one of Arthur's weaknesses. After all, if Arthur had investigated a little more back before Alfred left, he would have realized what was happening. Maybe he would have listened, maybe things would have changed.

Mathew heart twinges as he remembers Alfred's words. _"I've never been in love with Arthur."_ No, Mathew knows that nothing would have changed. Alfred would never accepted Arthur's feelings. Arthur would never have accepted his rejection. Mathew wonders if Francis knows this too, if this is why he chose to take Alfred's side all those years ago. Mathew wonders who's side Francis is taking now.

"Non." Francis responds to Arthur's outburst calmly, despite his disheveled appearance and the bright red slap mark on his face. "It did 'elp. None of you will talk to each other. That's why none of you can understand each other."

And suddenly, Mathew finds himself looking straight into Francis' s strangely deep and pained eyes. 

"Mathieu, you're right. I don't 'Ave the right to tell you what to do, I gave that right up, but even so-" 

Mathew feels a shaking in his heart, a premonition of something he's not sure he's ready to hear. Francis continues speaking, and a single tear rolls down his face. 

"- this meddlesome older brother wants you to be 'appy."

Mathew feels lost. Almost instinctively, he looks to Arthur for the answer. He's waiting, Mathew realizes, for Arthur to give him an order. He's waiting for Arthur to tell him what to do again, like he always has. Arthur seems to realize it to, and Mathew sees something that's more than just a mix of sorrow and chaos in Arthur's eyes when Arthur speaks. 

"Mathew, my boy, isn't it about time you stopped doing what you were told, and start doing what you want?" 

There's a sense of loss in Arthur's words, but also a freedom Mathew doesn't know how to control. Arthur's last request, a hypothetical handing over of the reigns to Mathew. With these words, Arthur is refusing to govern Matthew's life anymore. He's asking Mathew to make his own choices.

Mathew doesn't know what the choice he wants to make is. 


	8. Chapter 8

He's never loved Arthur, not the way his brother thinks. Arthur is only his friend, and his older brother, even if they're not related by blood or paper. Arthur took him in when he was all alone. Arthur brought his twin back to his side, and it was Arthur who made them into a family. Alfred loves Arthur, he does, but only as far as he can love his family. There's a distinct line there that Alfred cannot cross, a depth of feelings he can't feel, no matter how much Arthur wants it. No matter how much Mathew thinks it's there.

Maybe he's emotionally stunted, or not as mentally mature as Mathew - Arthur had always said that Mathew was mature for his age, even when they were kids - but Alfred doesn't feel the same type of love as Mathew does, not for Arthur, not for anyone. He's not sure if he hasn't met the right person, or if he ever will. But he's knows that what Mathew feels is different than what he feels, and he knows that Mathew thought he felt the same way, if only by the way his twin's face pales at his announcement.

"I've never been in love with Arthur."

Mathew looks sick, and it makes Alfred uneasy. Even though he knows it's hypocritical even though he knows in his head that Mathew has flaws, even though he's experienced the effects of those flaws himself, it's still hard for him to let himself see them. Not when he spent so much of his youth being told "Why can't you be more like Mathew?". His brother always was better behaved than him, was well liked by people naturally with seemingly no effort.

Mathew always seemed to get what Alfred wanted first, or in a better way. Even _that_ time, when Alfred struggled so hard to leave that house, to be independent, Mathew had done so easily.

_Mathew is calling, something that's rare ever since Alfred left Arthur's house. Alfred isn't sure if that's a good thing or not, but regardless, he picks up. He hasn't spoken to his brother in so long, and the air is still tense between them, and he's still stinging from his brothers' betrayal - both of theirs. Still, it's been a long time since then, and he's ready to repair their relationship._

_"Hello?"_

_Matthew's calling with good news, but Alfred's throat goes dry and he feels dizzy._

_"Hey Alfred! Guess what! Arthur and I figured it's time for me to be a little more independent, so I... I got my own place now!"_

_Matthew's tone is bubbling with excitement, old fights and grudges temporarily forgotten in his pure joy, but Alfred can't seem to make himself congratulate him._

" _You and Arthur did, huh? Together?"_

_Mathew sounds a little more subdued and embarrassed as he answers._

_"Sorry, I didn't mean.. It took a lot of convincing, he didn't just let me, I didn't mean to bring up..."_

_Alfred knows his brother genuinely didn't mean to cause any bad feelings, but somehow that's worse. If Mathew had purposely called to rub his face in it, Alfred could have hated him easily. Instead, he has to swallow his feelings, he has to let it go, but all Alfred can think about is how Mathew gained something he had to fight for so easily, just by asking._

_It makes Alfred wonder if there was even a point to all his suffering to get to this point. It makes him wonder why Arthur will give wya to Mathew, but not him. Was it becaue Mathew had held out for longer? Or was Mathew somehow much better than him? It makes him feel disgusting when he identifies his feelings of jealousy, but Alfred can't help but envy his perfect brother._

_"Cool." He manages in a slightly strained tone, "I'll have to visit someday."_

_Its petty, Alfred knows, but he can't make himself congratulate his brother, not when he had to work so much harder for the same thing. Mathew doesn't seem to notice anyways._

Alfred feels small, like a child, nervously picking at lint on his sock, and even his seat on the floor seems to extenuate the distance between him and his brother. Mathew looks like he's finally figuring something out, and it's terrifying to Alfred. He wants to blame the distance between them on Arthur. It's because Mathew thinks Alfred lives Arthur that the twins grew apart. That's the reason Mathew treats him so coldly, or that's what Alfred keeps telling himself, but there's a little voice in the back of his head that tells him that's not true.

"Im sorry." 

Mathew apologizes, voice shaking, and he sounds like he truly means it. It makes Alfred want to hope, to think That maybe it wasn't his fault, that maybe it was just a misunderstanding all along, and maybe, just maybe... 

"Then..." Alfred fights to keep his voice from breaking, "Can I have my brother back?" 

Matthew's shoulders bow forward as though under an invisible burden and his face contorts into an expression Alfred can't describe, but is certain he's mimicking himself. Matthew's eyes are misting over, and suddenly Alfred knows he doesn't want to hear the answer. He's barely aware he's made the decision to run before he's on his feet, but he doesn't get the chance to escape. 

There's a grip on his arm, tightly gripping his arm, probably too tightly, and Alfred knows there will be bruises. He also knows he can break the grip easily enough with his strength if he wanted too. He doesn't. Mathew is crying, and Alfred thinks he is too. He wants to run away, he wants to avoid the words he knows he doesn't want to hear, but he also wants to hear those words, even if it hurts. It's not sensible or sane, but Alfred is frozen as Mathew speaks and Matthew's grip tightens, then releases when Alfred hisses, but still, Alfred stays and listens. 

Everything Mathew says hurts, but Is also something that Alfred understands. Alfred hates it. He hates the way a word from Mathew can send him into such a deep chaos and depression, how only a refusal to speak makes his heart sink. He hates how he's so dependent on his estranged brother's approval that he's internally self desructing, and he hates that many of things Mathew is saying to him are things he already knew, or things he wants to say to Mathew. Alfred hates that Mathew is making such stupid escuses, but he hates even more how eager he is to accept them. He hates how desperate he is for just a single word. 

But Mathew doesn't say that word. He says anything and everything else, And Alfred doesn't like how he's both relieved and disappointed by this. Alfred knows Mathews refusal to answer is an answer in itself, and it hurts. He answers Mathew in a choked voice, replacing Mathew's name with Arthur's. 

"Because if it's just that Arthur doesn't see anything in you, then there's nothing you can do." 

Alfred realizes that nothing he can ever do will bring his brother back to him. It's not because of Arthur that they grew apart. It's because of him. Alfred isn't good enough, and he feels like this knowledge is breaking him apart. This time, it's not him who runs. It's a mistake, Alfred tilting his head to check Matthew's expression, blurry though his tears, and meeting the watery gaze of the other, heartbrokenly. Alfred sees an answer there that he already knows.

He doesn't know what Mathew sees, he doesn't have a chance to wonder, because Mathew bolts from the chair, brushing past Alfred to the doorway, and Alfred feels a hot tear splash on his arm as Mathew paasses, and he barely has time to register anything before he hears the cry from the doorway. 

"Arthur?" 

It's a small, broken sound, that shatters whatever was left of what's holding Alfred together. He spins, and there they are. Mathew, tearful and horrified, hand to his mouth in shock, Arthur, guilty and avoiding his gaze, and though he can't see him, Alfred knows Francis is standing just around the corner as well. There's a sense of finality in the air, and all Alfred can thinks is _"It's over."_

His relationship with his brother, 

His relationship with Arthur, 

And even his relationship with his dear friend Francis, who had helped him so much over the years, both in escaping from Arthur's house, and even finally building a relationship with Arthur where they could both accept the other as a friend, where Arthur wasn't pursuing Alfred anymore, even though Francis had helped him so much, Alfred knew it was over. 

He sinks to the floor, curling and tucking into himself, head down and eyes closed, as though this position with make the sharpness in his chest go away, but it doesn't. He can faintly hear Arthur's voice, and feel the hand on his back, and he wants to yell at Arthur. 

"How can you be so stupid?" He wants to say. "If you love Mathew, why do you always come to me first? Go to _him_ , you idiot!" 

And the hand is gone, and Alfred's throat is sore and he knows he's said the words out loud but he can't even care. There's shouting in the hallway, Francis's belligerent tone, and Matthew's even but loud response.

Its breaking, the relationship between Mathew and Francis. 

There's a sharp retort, and Arthur's shaking voice joins the fray, and Alfred isn't listening to what he's saying, but instead the tone, and he hears anger and pain, and his hands go up to curl over his ears. 

The relationship between Arthur and Francis is breaking too. 

Its over. It's all over. Everything is falling apart. His family, Alfred's own, self made family, is gone, and he's afraid to face the world alone. His shoulders are heaving with his breathes, though he isn't sure if it's because of the force of his sobs or something else. For the first time since he was very young, even before he met Arthur, Alfred feels incredibly alone. 

Then, there's a presence in front of him. A person who stands somewhat like Arthur, but feels more like Alfred. A voice that asks, In a tiny, shamefilled tone, but with a steadiness that Alfred has always been jealous of;

"Alfred?" 

Alfred won't look up. He can't. He's never felt more insignificant, more useless and small. Mathew crouched down facing him, so close he can feel his twins breath, feel the shift of the fabric as Mathew holds out his hand. 

"I never gave you an answer." 

Alfred's head shoots up, and the eyes he sees are still pained and deep, but they're clearer than before. Mathew tries his best to offer Alfred a smile. 

"If the offer's still open, I'd like to be your brother again." 


	9. Chapter 9

There's an awkward silence between the two, one that was never there before, and one that Mathew is almost thankful for. He's thankful because the silence means that they're looking at each other, gauging the other's reactions and expressions, testing the waters for what they can say. They're not acting on assumptions anymore. Watching his twin, Mathew is learning to see the flaws he refused to see before. Alfred makes a joke that isn't funny and laughs at it, a little too hard, helping himself to Matthew's fries even though he'd just declared himself stuffed, and Mathew thinks he knows why.

He thinks it's the same emotion that makes him close his mouth everytime he opens it, the same emotion that makes him crave sweets and makes him add too much sugar to his coffee. It's an almost tangible wariness and nervousness, a timidity he knows far too well. Matthew's learning to see bits of himself in Alfred, some of his own flaws, and he doesn't know if he likes it. But he does know that he likes this Alfred much better than the flawless brother he used to see. He wonders if Alfred sees his own flaws in Mathew too.

Finally, Mathew breaks the silence in a tired tone, and they repeat a conversation from what seems like forever ago. 

"What is it, Al?" 

Alfred takes the offered opportunity gratefully.

"How's Arthur been recently?"

This time, Mathew doesn't feel the same sting he used to feel whenever Alfred mentioned Arthur. He still feels a sting, but it's different this time, and so is his answer. He answers with a tiny frown. 

"I don't know." 

"You haven't spoken to him?"

Alfred returns, forehead creased. He looks concerned, but Mathew doesn't feel provoked by his concern anymore. There's an earnestness in their conversation that wasn't there before, and it's refreshing. That's why Matthew's able to admit the issue easier than he anticipated.

"Arthur said I should make my own choices." 

Mathew doesn't fill in the next words. He doesn't think he has too. "But I don't know what to do." It's probably pathetic, Mathew knows, but it's true. Ever since he was a child, he's done what he was told. He listened to Arthur, and stood behind him when he was told to. Now, he's suddenly told to do it alone, and Mathew still feels like he's waiting for Arthur to provide the answer. Maybe that's why he's come to Alfred instead. Mathew knows that even though it's not intentional, he's waiting for Alfred to tell him what to do next, and he hates himself for it.

"So you don't want to be with Arthur?" 

Alfred sounds confused, and he looks it too, and Mathew realizes he's fallen back into his habit of assuming that Alfred knows how he feels, that he feels the same. It hits Mathew again, the feeling of "Oh! We're different." It's not a feeling that Mathew is used to, and it leaves him feeling disconcerted, like he just got off one of the spinning rides at the amusement park. Mathew struggles to find the words to explain.

"That's not it..." 

Alfred tilts his head questioningly, finishing off Matthew's fries, and the gap between them feels overpowering. 

"Then what's the problem?" 

Mathew opens his mouth to explain, but he's not quite sure how to. Not when Alfred is looking at him with wide and innocent eyes, waiting. His heart sinks. He can't tell Alfred he's scared, Alfred, who always go out and gets what he wants, wouldn't understand. Mathew is afraid Alfred will think he's foolish and weak. Apparently assuming Mathew isn't going to respond, Alfred presses on.

"I mean, it's not like you have to be afraid of rejection or anything."

Alfred's words makes Mathew feel like there are worms squirming in his veins, and he remembers what Alfred had told him. "You know that Arthur is in love with you, right?" But Alfred is naïve, and prone to jump to conclusions. Just like how Alfred was mistaken about him, Mathew knows his brother is mistaken about Arthur too. No, that's what he chooses to believe. Mathew doesn't want to let himself hope for something that unthinkable. Mathew knows that Alfred is watching his expressions change, and Alfred's mouth falls open as he stares at Mathew in disbelief.

"You seriously don't believe that, do you?"

There's a thousand things Mathew wants to say to that, ranging from gentle disagreement to downright rejection, and a thousand reasons Mathew can give for why he's right. Mathew doesn't say any of them. Alfred doesn't give him the chance. It's been harder for Mathew to read Alfred's expressions lately, harder to identify the emotions there, but this time at least, the emotion is clear to Mathew, though still puzzling. Alfred looks one hundred percent annoyed as he speaks. 

"Mattie, for once in your life, do me a favour and listen to me. To be honest, you suck at reading people, and tend to just assume the worst, but just one time, I want you to take a good look at your relationship with Arthur without the pessimism!" 

Alfred's outburst is so shockingly out of character for his brother that Mathew has to take a moment to register the shock of that before he registers the words. Then, the emotions hit, and Mathew can feel his face turning to stone, the words already on his lips. " _What would you know?"_ But Alfred meets his eyes, and Mathew sees a tiredness in his twin's eyes, a look he's seen many times before on the same face.

_"Ah, Alfred!"_

_The familiar accent draws Mathews attention immediately, and even though he knows it's not calling for him, he turns to look anyways. To his surprise, he sees Arthur looking directly at him._

_"Alfred!"_

_Arthur demands again, and Mathew automatically scans the room for his twin, before he realizes what's going on. He feels his heart sink as Arthur approaches._

_"Hi Arthur."_

_Arthur doesn't even acknowledge Matthew's greeting._

_"Alfred! You said you were going to drive me home half an hour ago! If you've decided I'm not worth your time, you should have just told me, you wanker! I could have asked Francis!"_

_Mathew hesitates. The words are on the edge of his tongue, "Arthur, I'm not Alfred," but he doesn't bother to say them. What's the point? Even if he does, Arthur will just apologize politely and walk away. Mathew knows from past experiences that even if he offers to drive Arthur, he'll only decline and go looking for Alfred instead. He always does._

_Something twinges in Matthew's chest, and he can't tell if it's guilt or jealousy as he speaks._

_"Sorry Arthur. I got distracted. I'll drive you home right away."_

_Arthur lights up, beaming triumphantly, and Mathew feels a heavy sense of loss when he sees that._

_"About time." Arthur huffs, "Let's go!"_

_Mathew does his best to mimic Alfred's smile._

_"Go ahead, I'll meet you there. Just need the bathroom real quick."_

_Arthur doesn't question it, and Mathew slips into the bathroom and pulls out his cellphone to call his twin. Alfred picks up on the second ring._

_"Mattie? What's up?"_

_Alfred sounds excited as always, and Mathew feels both irritated and frustrated. His response is a little colder and more accusatory than he'd like._

_"Arthur is waiting by your truck for you to drive him home."_

_"Oh."_

_Alfred's enthusiasm dies down instantly._

_"Actually.. I'm really busy.... Could you drive him home for me?"_

_Alfred's flippancy is scraping Matthew's sore spot like a rusty nail, and there's something nasty and infectious stirring there. Even though Mathew knows this is always Alfred's personality, it irritates him. How Alfred, who has everything Matthew's ever wanted, can't even take care of it. How he treats everyone around him like nothing. No, maybe to someone as perfect as Alfred, they are nothing, both Arthur's and Matthew's feelings._

_Mathew releases a bit of his venomous thoughts in his words, though he knows Alfred won't catch it._

_"You never change." A deep, steadying breathe. "Fine, I'll do it."_

_He hangs up before Alfred can have the chance to respond with something stupidly kind or nice. Before Alfred can make Mathew feel worse. Mathew doesn't want to face the nastiness that makes him feel even lower than he usually does._

_Mathew meets Arthur in the parking lot, and Arthur lights up._

_"Alfred, you're finally here! About time!"_

_Arthur doesn't seem to notice when Mathew leads him to his truck instead of Alfred's, and he's already nagging a mile a minute as he climbs inside, in a way he never does to Mathew. Mathew tries to mimic Alfred's annoyed expression, but the reflection in the window just look tired._

_Mathew wonders is that's what the face of a liar looks like._

_He climbs inside the truck._

The weariness in Alfred's eyes is exhausting Mathew too, and he feels trapped and hopeless. In the end, what does it matter? If this situation could be fixed with only a few words, then what was the point of his beearing it all these years? The answer is as threatening as it is obvious. If their relationship can be fixed with nothing but a few words, then Matthew's efforts and quiet suffering were pointless. Mathew doesn't know if he can face that. Alfred is still watching him, tired and exasperated, and Mathew wonders if he really thinks Mathew will listen, or if Alfred's already given up on him, like so many times before.

Mathew doesn't want Alfred to give up on him ever again. 

"Okay," he breathes the words shakily, "Just once." 

Alfred's expression changes, and Mathew quickly closes his eyes. He tries to think about the relationship between him and Arthur as though Alfred was never involved.

_"Mathew!"_

_Arthur's drunk, it's apparent by the flush in his cheeks and the brightness in his eyes, and the slight slur in his voice as he calls out to Mathew, beckoning Mathew to join him. With slight trepidation, Mathew does. He's used to comforting Arthur during his drunken breakdowns, murmuring empty assurances that he isn't even sure Arthur hears in an attempt to pacify him, but things have changed recently. Arthur doesn't cry about Alfred anymore. Mathew thinks he might perfer that to what Arthur does instead._

_Arthur pulls him down beside him and Mathew smiles weakly at him while he assesses the situation. Arthur stares right back at him with an expression Matthew's never seen on Arthur's face when he's sober. Then, unprompted, Arthur blurts out an apology._

_"I'm sorry. " He says, reaching for Matthew's hand, and Mathew stiffens slightly as Arthur touches him. Arthur's eyes start turning wet._

_"I'm sorry. I'm always taking you for granted, taking advantage of you, but you...you're always there for me. I'm sorry."_

_Arthur lays his head on his arm on the bar, but keeps his eyes fixed on Mathew, and like he's caught in a spell, Mathew can't look away. He's always wanted to hear these words, always wanted to see Arthur look at him, and only him, but now that it's happening, his skin is crawling with discomfort. Arthur traces circles on Matthew's stiff hand and continues in a voice that sounds close to tears._

_"How could I treat you like that? Why didn't I notice sooner? Why... Why can I still not talk to you properly?"_

_Arthur's hand moves from Matthew's hand to his thigh, lightly brushing and loving, and Matthew's heart feels like it's dropped from his chest to his stomach at mach speed as he figures out what is going on. Arthur leans into him, eyes shining both from the drink and from the unshed tears, and Mathew gently slides Arthur's hand off his thigh, pushing a hand gently but sternly against Arthur's chest to create a distance between them. He can almost taste the bitter smile on his lips as he forces the gentle words out, nearly choking on them._

_"Arthur, I'm not Alfred."_


	10. Chapter 10

" _Arthur, I'm not Alfred."_

_Mathew finds himself saying those words more and more these days, and more and more often he has to block Arthur's advances. Everytime, Mathew can see Arthur shrink, and a little bit of light die in his eyes as he responds, always in the same low tone that Mathew knows is a mixture of disappointment, regret and longing, and probably even more emotions he can't pinpoint._

" _Of course, you're Mathew. I know that."_

_Mathew knows that Arthur is lying._

Matthew's eyes snap open. He knew Arthur was lying, he was just saying that so Mathew wouldn't feel bad, Mathew knows that, and yet... what if he wasn't? He mees Alfred's clear blue eyes in a shock, searching for confirmation. For a moment, Alfred makes a complicated face, as though he can't decide what expression to make, and Mathew begins to thing that maybe he's wrong after all, that it's all wishful thinking. Then, miraculously, Alfred's face changes into a sloppy grin, edging ever so slightly on a smirk, and Mathew finds the answer he's looking for. Alfred says it out loud anyways.

"I toldya, didn't I? Arthur loves _you_ , Mattie."

And suddenly Mathew remembers something that Arthur had said, something he'd brushed off and tried to ignore. 

_Mathew, I love you."_

_Mathew knows that Arthur means what he's saying, from the bottom of his heart. He also knows that Arthur doesn't mean the same kind of "love" that Mathew feels. It's guilt, Mathew knows, that's prompted the words to fall from Arthur's lips, words Arthur would never say when he's sober. Arthur isn't oblivious to his own favoritism, the difference in devotion between how he treats Alfred and how he treats Mathew. That's why Mathew accepts the words, knowing they're sincere, but with a bitter taste in his mouth._

_"Thanks."_

_He feels his lips move in response, but he feels strangely disconnected as he hears his own reply._

_I love you too, Arthur."_

_Mathew wishes that Arthur m_ _eant the same thing as Mathew does._

And Mathew begins to understand, feeling blood rush to his cheeks, turning his whole face red, even to the tips of his ears, and he barely notices the funny look Alfred is giving him because he's so caught up in his revelation. Arthur hadn't thought he was Alfred. He'd come onto Mathew on purpose. And Mathew had -unknowingly- rejected Arthur. The understanding slips out in a strained gasp. 

" _Oh."_

It's only a word, no, it's barely is a word, but Mathew can't seem to say anything else. His feelings of elation and horror feel like they're battling against each other in him, and the world seems to spin in his veiw. Alfred's face changes from satisfied amusement to concern as Mathew sways a little in his chair, and he leans across the table to grab arm to steady him. 

"Mattie, are you okay?" 

But Mathew can't answer. His tiredness from moments ago has now been completely chased away by adrenaline, and though the world is still unfocused, Mathew feels restless. One memory brings with it another, and another, like a string of lights, and Mathew's overwhelmed with his newly discovered clarity. 

_"How's Arthur been recently?"_

_"I don't know."_

_"You haven't spoken to him?"_

There's a thousand versions of Arthur in Matthew's memories. Arthur, his new older brother, who took care of him when Francis gave up on him. Arthur who makes dry scones and obsesses over tea. Arthur who pretends to hate Francis, but is actually good friends with him. Arthur who chases after Alfred and refuses to let go. Arthur who commands Mathew to follow. Arthur who breaks down when he fails to bring Alfred back. Arthur who looks at Mathew with a somewhat hopeless expression even as he confesses. Arthur, who meets Matthew's eyes through a glaze of tears and tells him to make his own choices. 

" _Mathew, my boy, isn't it about time you stopped doing what you were told, and start doing what you want?"_

There's a thousand versions of Arthur in his memory, all of them different, yet all of them are Arthur, but the memory that Mathew focuses on is the most recent one. Arthur has said to do what he wanted. What did he want? Alfred's earlier question echoes in his head. 

_"You don't want to be with Arthur?"_

It's such a simple and childish question, no deeper meanings or intentions other than confusion and curiosity. It's a question that any child could have asked. Is a question that Mathew hadn't been able to answer. Mathew thinks he can answer it now. 

_"Hello Mathew, my name is Arthur. I'm going to be your new older brother."_

_"How is it? Probably not as good as that Frog's, but still, I have pride in my scones, you know."_

_"Mathew! Do sit neatly or you'll spill your tea!"_

_"I can't stand Francis! I swear that one day I'll - oh, Mathew! ...That is.. I just meant... Well, ahem, nevermind that."_

****_"Mathew, come. We're going to bring Alfred back!"_

_"Why?_ _Why did he leave me? Why couldn't I -"_

_"Thank you, Mathew. For staying."_

_"Good job, Lad!"_

_"What about your love, Mathew?"_

He's laughably late, coming to a conclusion even an animal could have come to quicker, but finally, Mathew knows what he wants. The world snaps back into focus, and he meets Alfred's somewhat worried face with more than confidence than he can remember having for years, and Alfred's eyes widen. Then a grin spreads across Alfred's face, and the worry lines smooth out as Mathew speaks. It's only one sentence, but it carries with it years of emotions and struggles and hopes for the future, and Mathew says it clearly. 

"I want to see Arthur."

Alfred responds with a smirk, relaxing back against the back of his chair.

"What's stopping you?" 

_Nothing._

Mathew doesn't need to answer the question. Alfred doesn't seem to expect him too. Instead, Mathew shoots out of his seat, murmuring an apology neither brother is actually listening too, and Alfred waves him off, and Mathew is moving before he even knows what he's doing, where he's going, but for the first time in forever, it finally feels like he's doing something right. 

He's almost halfway to Arthur's before he realizes Arthur might not be home, and he calls his number instead, too pumped up on adrenaline to hesitate, and it's Arthur who sounds hesitant when he answers.

"Hello?" 

Mathew doesn't introduce himself. He knows he doesn't need too. His number is saved in Arthur's phone, and he knows Arthur knows who called. Instead, Mathew presses to the heart of the issue. 

"Arthur, are you home?" 

The response is flustered. 

"I-wha-, yes. Yes, I'm home." 

The sound of the familiar British accent stumbling over his answer makes Mathew smile, welling up from his subconsciousness, and Mathew thinks he can hear a change in his own voice because of that as he reveals his reason for calling. 

"I want to see you." 

Arthur goes silent for a moment on the other end of the line, and when he does speak, his voice is grim and solemn. 

"Very well." 

Mathew knows where Arthur keeps his spare key. He doesn't need to retrieve it. Instead, he pressed the bell with his expiring adrenaline, his last bit of courage disapating as the door swings open and Arthur greets him. It's a version of Arthur similar to one of his memories, smelling slightly of alcohol, eyes rimmed with red and bloodshot, normally newt clothes and hair a mess, but at the same time, Matthew's struck with the difference between the Arthur after Alfred left and the Arthur before him. 

Arthur stands with his shoulders throw back, his eyes, though red, are looking straight at Mathew, and though he smells of alcohol, his eyes are clear and Mathew knows he's sober. It's both new and familiar to Mathew. The Arthur that first breaks down and cries is definitely the same Arthur that later gets back up and fights. But this time, Arthur's not like this because of Alfred, or at least not _just_ because of Alfred, and Mathew feels both guilty and a little proud of this fact. 

Part of him is elated that finally, he's gotten Arthur's attention, that finally, it was him that Arthur was stressing out about and worrying over. But another part of him wants to retreat. Years of self-brainwashing are engrained into his heart, and that part of him whispers that he's not good enough, that he can't make Arthur happy, that he'll never be enough. Mathew falters. 

Arthur is still standing, looking at him through his swollen red eyes, still waiting for Mathew to speak, but suddenly, Mathew can't say the words, and the reason that he came running to Arthur's door feels like nothing but a delusion. He feels both stupid, for ever thinking just for a moment that Arthur could like him, and also terrified of meeting Arthur's open gaze. There's millions of reasons in his head why Arthur can't like him, and with each his heart sinks. 

_"I don't stand out like Alfred._

_I don't speak up for myself._

_I'm not strong._

_I-"_

It's Arthur who cuts off Matthew's intrusive thoughts with an unexpected move. It's all in a moment, then Mathew finds Arthur's arms around his neck, pulling his head down to meet Arthur's shoulder, and Arthur's voice shakes with emotion as he speaks in a scolding tone. 

"You bloody idiot." 

And Matthew's previous concerns are chased out by all new ones as he tries to think what he did, why Arthur is calling him an idiot. Arthur doesn't wait for him to figure it out, and continues in a thick voice. 

"Even now, why are you still comparing yourself to Alfred?" 


	11. Chapter 11

That tiny smile, the eyes that speak of pain that contradicts the polite smile, the gentle and resigned way of speaking, Arthur knows them all too well. It's been a long time since Arthur first realized that was how Mathew hid his true emotions, and even longer since Arthur last saw them. Its painful, but Arthur can only blame himself, because he knows when the last time he saw Matthew's true feelings was, and he's the one who stole it from him.

_Mathew hesitates instead of taking the torch Arthur is offering him._

_"Arthur?"_

_There's a tremble to his tiny tone as his gaze wavers between Arthur's face and the building behind Arthur, and there's a fear in his eyes that matches the tone, a fear that Arthur's never seen before. He knows that Mathew doesn't want to do this. He knows Mathew is scared to hurt Alfred, and somehow that makes the anger inside him flare up even more. Mathew hadn't done anything to help when Alfred tried to throw Arthur away and leave, but now, when Arthur was asking for Matthew's help in chasing him back, Mathew was shrinking away._

_"He hurt you first.Don't you want to get him back?"_

_Arthur know's he being manipulative, that Mathew was only burned because Arthur forced him to play with fire. But he's too angry to care. Mathew looks close to tears, casting a pleading gaze to Arthur, and Arthur can read the message there clearly._

_"Please don't make me do this."_

_But Arthur knows a secret about Mathew, something Mathew doesn't know he knows. He knows that Mathew is afraid of being thrown away, abandoned, like when Francis gave him up to Arthur, and Arthur's just bitter enough to not care about exploiting that weakness. He shifts his expression in such away that Matthew's follows, a different kind of fear shining in his eyes, and hesitantly, Mathew reaches for the torch._

_"No!"_

_The cry comes from the top of the hill, and Arthur loses Mathew to the one who always steal what he loves away from him. From little things like dumping his tea away, to unbearable things like taking his heart away and breaking it, Alfred always takes what Arthur loves, and now, he's taking even Mathew, the one thing Arthur has left. Arthur knows from the look on Matthew's face that it's pointless. Mathew can no longer be manipulated into lighting the fire._

_So Arthur does it himself._

_He regrets it instantly. Alfred looks like a lost child, his wounded and searching gaze reminding Arthur so strongly of the little brother he had so long ago, gaze wavering between Arthur, the fire, and his twin. Mathew is looking only at Alfred, but his hands are shaking, and though he doesn't seem to realize it, Arthur can see the tears streaming down Mathew's face. It stings in his chest, and Arthur suddenly wonders if he's doing something wrong. He closes his eyes and turns away, remebering the bitterness of being left behind._

_No, Arthur decides. He's not wrong._

Arthur wishes he hadn't ignore his intuition at that time, that he'd never done any of that, or, at the least that he'd stopped there. It'd been a long time after that since he saw Mathew smile again, and when he did it wasn't the same as before. Arthur had chosen to drown his loss in liquor and drink away his sorrows and mental health problems after he failed. Mathew had tended to him. 

Arthur wishes he'd noticed earlier. He wishes he hadn't ordered Mathew to come, that he hadn't manipulated the boy. But he had, and now Arthur and Mathew are both paying the consequences. Arthur knows that Mathew broke that day, and that it was his fault. That's why, when Arthur says the words, he expects the response he receives, though it doesn't make it less painful. 

_Mathew, I love you."_

_The words he longs to say are so incredibly simply, yet so hard to get out. That's why Arthur chooses to hide behind the guise of alcohol, to have an excuse to fallback on. It's pathetic he knows, hiding for fear of a broken heart when he was the one who broke Matthew's years ago, but he still chooses to do this. He knows as soon as he sees Matthew's soft, pitiful look what the answer will be._

_"Thanks, Arthur," Mathew says the words sweetly with a small smile, but there's no sincerity in his response. "I love you too."_

_And Arthur knows right then and there that it's hopeless. No matter how many times he says the words, Mathew will never believe him. He lets the words escape anyways._

_"Why won't you believe me?"_

_He knows the answer even without being it said. How could Mathew believe him? How could love come from manipulation, the cold and cruel emotional abuse that Arthur made Mathew suffer for Arthur's own sake? Mathew, as always, pretends Arthur is talking to Alfred, and answers softly, like a tired older brother indulging a little brother's foolishness._

_"He does believe you, Arthur, its just that your 'love' means something different than his."_

_Arthur wonders if this is his retribution for what he did to Mathew. Because he forced Mathew to help him hurt Alfred, because he made Mathew chase Alfred with him to bring it back, because he hurt the one who always stayed by his side, Mathew refuses to acknowledge his feelings. Because Arthur chose to focus on Alfred, and now Mathew does the same. He knows he deserves this, but even so, he whispers the plantative plea._

_"And what about your love, Mathew?"_

_Matthew's face goes stiff and stony, even the small practiced smile looking cold, and Matthew's response is careful and barbed, a warning to Arthur to keep his distance._

_"I'll always stand behind you, you know that Arthur. No matter what."_

_Mathew clearly tells Arthur where he stands, and refuses to move. Arthur hates this situation, the Mathew who coldly stands behind instead of beside him, and the Arthur that trained him to stand there. Arthur hates himself the most._

Arthur feels the same patheticness as when he lost Alfred, and knows that his self-destructive drinking is just as pathetic as it was then, but he doesn't care. His head is alight with a thousand thoughts, and the feeling of intense loss. Yesterday, within just a couple of hours, he'd lost everything. The relationship he'd finally managed to rebuild with Alfred, the lifelong friendship-no, he refuses to admit it as that - the _partnership_ he's built with Francis, and the delicate familial bonds between him and Mathew, all of them are gone.

All that's left is the crushing alone that Arthur tries to fight off with liquor. He wishes... he doesn't know what he wishes, but he knows it's for something better than all this. He reaches for the whiskey again. It's a Canadian brand, one Mathew would have liked. That only makes it worse. He wonders if he can blame Francis for the situation, but has the sinking suspicion that Francis has done something right, if not for Arthur, than for Mathew. 

_"None of you will talk to each other. That's why none of you can understand each other."_

Arthur hates admitting it just as much as he hates the frenchman's stupid face, but he knows Francis is right. He knows that if Francis hadn't made him listen, he'd never have known. But it still hurts to remember. 

_There's a gap between him and Mathew that Arthur doesn't know how to breach, and it's driving him crazy. There's a heated murmur of voices from the kitchen, and though Arthur can't hear what they're saying, he can tell by the tone it's serious, and he can't make himself interrupt it, trapping himself in the empty sitting room, like a child trying to block out their arguing parents. It's a helplessness that Arthur is feeling more and more often these days._

_Then the glass door to the room clicks open, and Arthur sees the one face he absolutely doesn't want to see right now, the face that swore it could fix any relationship, but still couldn't fix his relationship with Mathew. The face of a liar and a Frenchman, and that's why Arthur hates him. This is the Frenchman who lied to Mathew. This is the Frenchman who lied to Alfred when he lured him away, and this is the Frenchman who lied to Arthur. Nothing is fixed. Arthur takes out his bitterness at this fact in his tone, openly hostile._

_"I'm not in the mood for whatever nonsense you want to say, Francis."_

_Francis moves with a powerful stride to Arthur's side, undaunted, and grabs Arthur by the arm with a tight grip that makes Arthur raise a hand in retaliation, but he freezes when Francis speaks, in a low and serious tone._

_"Then what about listening to what they want to say?"_

_It's wrong to eavesdrop, Arthur knows that, but he doesn't struggle against Francis as the Frenchman pulls him to just outside the kitchen door, pressing him against the wall with a shush motion. Arthur knows he shouldn't listen, but he's already done so much else wrong, his relationship with them is already fractured. What else could break? So, Arthur listens, and the more he does, the more he hears things he doesn't want to hear._

_"I've never been in love with Arthur."_

_" I thought I could finally have Arthur all to myself. I thought for once he'd only look at me. I blamed anyone I could, everyone. Just not Arthur. Because-"_

_"Because if it's just that Arthur doesn't see anything in you, then there's nothing you can do."_

Arthur realizes that everything has always been his fault. 


	12. Chapter 12

There's a lot of words that haven't been said. There's some he wants to say, but doesn't know how to, some he doesn't want to say but knows he has too, and even more that he doesn't want to say and never will. He knows it's not just him, but also Arthur is the same. Arthur looks tired, and though the smell of alcohol lingers, for once, Arthur chooses not to use it as a safety net, and Mathew knows that Arthur is sober by the look in his eyes. Its a little frightening. 

Arthur is taking a stand, and Mathew knows that whatever he hears tonight will be the truth, no matter how unpleasant or painful. Arthur is taking away his safety net, but he's taking away Matthew's too. Neither of them can blame Arthur's words on Alcohol anymore, and Mathew feels like their fragile relationship is on the verge of breaking. He doesn't know if they can build a new one after this one breaks, but he knows regardless, that there is no saving their current relationship.

He both wants to destroy it, and is scared to destroy it. But Arthur's last order had been for Mathew to do what he wants, not what's most comfortable, and Mathew, obedient to the end, obeys. Besides, he can't really call their relationship comfortable anymore. It's long since stagnated past that point, and it's rotted to the core. So, for the first time, Mathew chooses to take the first step and crack the faux-comfort between them. He doesn't start with what he wants to say the most though. Instead, he starts with the words he wants to say the least.

"Arthur,"

Mathew breaks the silence, and Arthur flinches, but doesn't respond, looking almost relieved that it was Mathew who spoke first.

"I.. always stood behind you, Arthur, you know that."

I've always supported you. I didn't do it because I thought you were right. A lot of times I thought you were wrong. But I still supported you anyways. You know that Arthur, what I did.. Everything I did... For you."

Arthur won't meet Matthew's eyes, but Mathew doesn't think he could meet Arthur's either as he continues, choking on the lump in his throat.

"I wish I hadn't."

The confession tears from his throat like a plug being pulled, ridiculously difficult yet incredibly satisfying. Mathew doesn't look at Arthur. He knows Arthur is looking at him. Mathew chuckles mirthlessly. 

"I know you already know this. You heard everything after all, but I still thought I should tell you."

A deep breath, steadying, and Mathew doesn't know which of the pair took it. 

"I'm not the nice person you say I am. I'm selfish and jealous, and angry, but I wanted you to keep saying nice things about me, I wanted to be praised, so I pretended to be good. I hurt Alfred, I hurt Francis, and I.. I know I hurt you too. But Arthur, I-" 

Mathew remembers a blaze of fire, high and hot, and the ragged gasps of his twin behind him as they both saw the sight before him. 

" - I never wanted to bring Alfred back. I never wanted to hurt him. "

He chokes on his final words, and Arthur lets out a whine as though he was punched in the stomach. There's so much more to say, but Matthew's tongue is turned to cement and he can't seem to say anything past the heavy lump in his throat. Arthur takes up the metaphorical baton, his voice breaking as he speaks.

"I know. I always did." 

The confession hurts more than Mathew expected, like a shot in his chest. He'd thought he was ready, that he could face anything. He'd been foolish. Mathew had thought it wouldnt hurt, no more than it had already been hurting for years. After all, he'd always known that Arthur hadn't cared how he felt, that Arthur only wanted his way. Mathew was used to it. It was okay. But it was different in the end.

Arthur knew that Mathew hated it, and still made Mathew do it. It was different than not bothering to care about how Mathew felt. Knowing that Arthur knew made the dull ache so much worse. Mathew feels like he's suffocating, struggling to breathe, despite the freshness of the air, and the words escape that he doesn't want to ask, a question he doesn't want to know the answer to. 

"How could you?" 

It's a broken whisper of a cry, fragile and broken like a shattered glass, and Arthur doesn't try to touch the shards. Mathew wonders if Arthur won't answer because he knows that Mathew doesn't want to hear the answer, or if it's because he doesn't want to tell Mathew the answer. Instead, Arthur responds in tone so close to Mathew's, a pleading apology. 

"I'm sorry." 

It's not enough. Mathew wonders if it would hurt this much if anyone did it, or if it hurts like this because it's Arthur. Because the person Mathew loves the most doesn't love him at all. It hurt even more with that knowledge, and Mathew finally understands heartbreak. Because Arthur can't love him, he never did, not if he treated Mathew like that. If Alfred was right, and Arthur does somehow love Mathew, Mathew knows its a love he can't accept.

Arthur's love must be different than Matthew's, because Matthew's "love" means that he wants the person he loves to be happy, no matter what, he doesn't want him to get hurt. Mathew never wants to hurt the one he loves, but he's learning it's unavoidable. Matthew's heart is breaking, and everything that seemed possible earlier that morning seems like a lie. After all, Arthur doesn't love him and Mathew can't do anything to change that.

Mathew realizes Arthur is watching his face a moment too late, but this time he can't seem to force his small but polite smile. Arthur's face crumples in a way that makes Mathew cringe to know he put it there, and the tears in Matthew's eyes make it look like Arthur is crying. But no, Matthew's eyes are dry, and Arthur really is crying, a display Mathew hasn't seen since they failed to bring Alfred back, a heaving sob with shaking shoulders and twitching fingers. 

"I'm sorry," Arthur repeats, his tone choked, "Im sorry. I didn't care for you... Didn't love you like I should have. And now... Now it's too late." 

_There's a sense of déjà vu in Arthur's words, a familiarity of hearing words he's already heard before, and Mathew suddenly remembers when he last heard those words._

_"I'm such a fool!"_

_Arthur curses himself into his cup of scotch, and Mathew isn't even sure if Arthur knows he's there or not._

_"Why? Didn't I love him properly? So why-?"_

_Arthur looks down at the handcarved toy soldier he's rolling in his other hand, the one not occupied by a glass of scotch, and Mathew recognizes it as one of the set Arthur had carved for Alfred, apparently his brother's first gift after Arthur took him in. It's a memory of a time they can't get back, and not just Arthur, but both Mathew and Alfred too, everyone knows it. Arthur says these delicate words less gently._

_"I didn't treat him right and now it's too late. It's all my fault."_

_And Mathew can't say a word to refute him, because he knows Arthur is right. Alfred is gone, and it's too late to fix anything. Mathew knows that their relationships with Alfred are both over_. 

But Mathew had been wrong. Arthur and Alfred still talked, still hung out, Arthur even visited Alfred at his house, and vice-versa. Mathew had drank coffee with Alfred just earlier. Arthur had been wrong. It hadn't been too late. Mathew thinks that maybe, just maybe, Arthur's wrong this time too. Mathew wonders if he can somehow rebuild his relationship with Arthur after letting it crumble to pieces, if he can be as strong as Alfred long enough to bear through the pain and forgive. He wants Arthur to be wrong. He hopes its not too late. 

Maybe, that's why, even after everything, Mathew still chooses to say the words he used to want to say, so desparately, even though he loathed to say them now. 

Matthew's still hoping as his makes the confession, even though he knows nothing will come of it. 

"Arthur, I love you." 


End file.
